How Long Have I Been in this Storm?
by YouSaid
Summary: Killian Jones has spent too long reeling over the death of his love, but Emma holds onto the man she knew before she came along. Maybe one day, he'll knock on her door once more, and it won't just be her couch that she gives him - it'll be hope. CaptainSwan AU. Three-shot. M for language and smut.
1. Part One

A/N: Hey guys! I'm getting into a CaptainSwan fanwriting mode of non-novel length things. So at the moment, this is a planned AU three-shot. I'm not used to writing semi-short things, but here's hoping! Please let me know what you think. =]

**Title:** _Storm - Lifehouse._

Enjoy! xx

* * *

**How Long Have I Been in this Storm?**

****_So overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form._

* * *

Killian Jones was not one to be patient. In fact, he prided himself on taking whatever he wanted whenever he needed it. He did it with women, money, cars.

So sitting in the Rabbit Hole. A glass of rum in his hand, wasn't exactly his idea of an ideal night. Then again, there hadn't been many a night lately that had been ideal.

According to his best mate Dave, currently serving drinks down the other end of the bar, he'd been wallowing for a year now. Which seemed about right, and Killian couldn't find it in him to care. In his twenty-five years, he'd thought there was only one woman he could care this much that he would be drinking himself into oblivion for her.

And God, she was hurting him a whole lot more than he was letting on to anyone.

But that didn't stop Dave from delivering him a continuous supply of alcohol to dull what he could obviously see. And that, quite frankly, was exactly what he needed.

"You alright there, mate?" David asked, coming over as the area cleared for the time being.

"Perfect," Killian answered drily. "Any of them single?" He inclined his head to the group of girls down the bar.

"Waiting for their boyfriends," David answered. Killian wasn't sure if he was telling the truth, but he wasn't too bothered. He knew that David thought him sleeping through half of Brooklyn probably wasn't the best idea for his mental and emotional health, and normally he'd fight him on it.

But he was over it all. He hadn't fought Dave on it in over two weeks. It was probably the longest he'd ever gone without sex. Alcohol was enough of a distraction.

It was nearing two o'clock by the time Killian managed to hall his inebriated self out of the bar and down the road to his apartment as it began to rain.

Muttering under his breath, the man almost didn't realize he was about to run into someone.

Climbing out of her yellow bug, Emma Swan was putting up her red umbrella and heading towards the steps. All of which Killian completely missed until she yelled out, "Watch it!"

She kept moving, entering the building and heading straight for the elevator into which Killian promptly followed her. After all, they were neighbours, if slightly estranged ones.

"Jones," Emma said with a sigh, eyeing him warily but acknowledging his presence as he stepped in and hit their floor. It was a step up from last week for her to even glance in his direction, let alone say his name.

"Swan," he answered.

"Alone tonight?"

"Are you offering?"

Emma gave him a once over, finding herself surprised that he could still manage to throw those lines out when he was so heavily intoxicated that he was literally swaying on his feet. She rolled her eyes, "Another notch on your headboard? Or should I say, dent in your wall."

"Come now, Swan," he said, taking a step closer to her within the elevator and invading her personal space. Emma found herself compelled to stand her ground and not back away from him. After all, she could probably poke him with her finger and he'd topple backwards. The alcohol coming off his breath was warm despite the rain outside and coldness of their clothing. She was surprised that he could retain such warmth when a shiver went down her spine at his next words.

"Admit it. You wish it's you in my bed every time you hear me fucking them. The walls are thin, darling. And you aren't quiet."

"Neither are you," Emma spat, thankful to every deity there was that the elevator chose that moment to open and she could spring out, closely followed by the drunk man himself. He seemed to be tailing her in an effort to walk straight. Emma was struggling to keep her fury and embarrassment inside of her.

"Last chance, love," Killian called as he fumbled with his keys at his door. Emma groaned as she pushed open her door.

"Go to hell, Jones."

He nodded, sighed, walked into his apartment and promptly collapsed into oblivion upon his bed.

* * *

_**A Year Ago**_

_"I'll see you on the other side, baby," Milah's voice came through the phone. "I know you'll nail it."_

_"Is that a promise, love?"_

_"I'll see you when you get home."_

_She hung up and Killian Jones looked up at the mansion in front of him. She was asking a lot, and some small part of him might have known that. But he was blinded by his feelings, and so he took in a deep breath and climbed through the gate carefully, preparing to search for Milah's priceless diamond necklace._

_Her ex-husband had kept it. And according to Milah's security diagrams, he was pretty uptight about not letting her have it. But with all those barriers in mind, Killian was confident he wouldn't get caught._

_So confident that he missed a single camera._

_And he was done for._

xxx

"_Come on, Milah," Killian was groaning as he held the phone up to his ear, tapping impatiently on the wall. "Pick up the goddamn phone."_

_But it rang out for the third time. And the officer next to him was simply eyeing him apprehensively._

_"One more?" Killian pleaded. And resignedly, the old man agreed. Dialing a number he knew off by heart, he only had to wait for it to ring twice before a sleepy voice picked up on the other side._

_"What the fuck are you ringing for?" She still managed to sound angry even in sleep._

_"Swan, I'm at the station. I need you to bail me out."_

_He heard a few mumbled expletives and what sounded like a body falling out of bed. She spoke a few unintelligible sentences that he caught snatches of._

_"…fucking laces…throw me those…yeah…definitely ring you…" The door slammed._

_It wasn't until she was opening her car door that she realized she hadn't hung up the phone._

_"I'm on my way," she said finally and emotionlessly._

_"You didn't have to kick that guy out because of me."_

_"Who says it was a guy?"_

_And as she hung up, Killian felt a smile tugging at his lips. He hadn't seen that teasing side of Emma in a long time. But then his face fell. Why had he had to call her at all?_

_Why hadn't Milah answered?_

_Well, he didn't hear from her ever again._

_Just an obituary in the paper one week later._

* * *

**Present Day**

Three years ago, Killian Jones had been an okay guy. Finishing up his arts degree, planning on going and doing a masters. They'd been friends. Close friends. Closer than most best friends were.

And then _she_ came along.

Emma had never liked her. Milah Gold was a woman of many talents, but being likeable was definitely not one of them. Which was why she'd been so surprised when Killian had latched onto her like a lost puppy. Where once, Emma would have spent her evenings on his couch doing assignments, suddenly she felt sick even considering it. Every word coming out of his mouth was about Milah. What she loved and hated. Where they went on their dates, where they planned to go in the future – he was worse than a teenage girl.

And so, after gradually spending more and more time in her own apartment, she felt him slipping away from her. And she didn't need to see him to know that he was changing.

Whilst in those first days he'd been so excited and filled with hope, he became more seriously in love with her. And Emma knew it was love. He wouldn't have done a lot of those things if he hadn't loved her. She knew. She'd felt it herself with Neal.

So the first time he got off on a warning.

The second, Milah bailed him out.

And the third, she wasn't there.

And for God knows what reason, she'd gone to help him out. And he'd stayed the night on her couch, and she'd watched him sleep curiously.

She fell asleep in the early morning, and when she awoke around midday, he was gone. Back home. Most likely calling Milah a million times until he finally realized that she wasn't going to answer.

That she wasn't coming back.

Cops said it was an accident, that there was ice on the road and her car had spun into the ravine and there was nothing she could have done about it. Thing was, the minute Killian heard those words, he sank.

And Emma had seen him before when he was in a downward spiral, but never had he spiraled so hard, so far, and so fast.

As she dumped her bag on her bench, she heard the sound of him sinking onto his bed next door. It was with a sigh of relief that she thought to herself that maybe, just maybe, he was getting better. After all, she hadn't seen one of his women with him for almost two weeks. But alcohol still seemed to be his best friend.

A text came through her phone, vibrating across the countertop. With a quick flick of her hand, her green eyes darted across the screen.

_**David:** He got home okay? He's not passed out somewhere?_

Emma bit down on her lip before quickly shooting her friend back a message.

_**Emma:** He's passed out on his bed, so yes to both._

David's answer came back within a split second.

_**David:** Can you check on him?_

Emma hesitated.

_**David:** He won't bite. I doubt he has the coordination._

"Oh, you know me too well," Emma sighed, slipping out of her shoes before creeping out of her door, grabbing the spare set of keys next to the door.

Emma didn't let the fact that she still had the spare keys to his apartment disconcert her. It seemed natural, even if it was a little painful.

It was only a few moments before she was tiptoeing into his room. She stepped lightly across the floor into his bedroom where his body lay spread-eagled across the bed, his face buried in the mattress. Emma crossed the floor. She simply couldn't help the concerned look that crossed her face as she leant down and tried to roll him onto his side. The way he was lying, she wasn't too sure if he could even breathe.

He groaned as she pushed him, but he didn't wake. Emma reached over for one of his pillows, shoving it under his head just as she felt a warm hand wrap around her wrist. Glancing down, she saw Jones' face screwed up in fear.

"Milah," he groaned desperately.

Emma froze before pulling her hand out of his grasp as quickly as she could without pulling him from sleep.

_Still. _It was a year, but still he dreamed of her…

When she saw that he wasn't going to suffocate himself in his sleep, she backed out of the room as fast as her feet would carry her, closing the door behind her softly and returning to her own apartment next door.

Rummaging through her drawers, she picked up the only clean thing she could find and threw it on after removing her clothes from work. Climbing underneath the blankets, she tried to clear her mind and convince herself that everything would be back to normal in the morning. Killian was be his usual arsehole self and she would continue to avoid him.

But it wasn't until she was drifting in that space between sleeping and awake that she realized the jumper she was wearing belonged to the man who was lying next door, hopelessly staring at the wall that separated them...

* * *

**Review? Maybe? **

**TBC...**


	2. Part Two

A/N: Wow guys! I literally was not expecting that response! Thank you so much! This goes into a little of Killian and Emma's past. Here there be drunk sex.

I was kinda intermittently doing my French uni work and I had to look up what the feminine of cat was (French to English) - Google translate just gave me some lovely words...

Moving on from my life's story.

I'm sorry, but the first half's kinda all good in this chapter, but the second does get pretty heavy and angsty.

And this is like, officially, the longest I have ever spent writing something. I refused to stop until I had it done. So there goes six hours. =D

Enjoy! xx

* * *

**How Long Have I Been in this Storm?**

**Part II**

_Water's getting harder to tread with these waves crashing over my head._

* * *

**Two Years Ago**

_"For the last time, Mary Margaret," Killian groaned as he held a bottle of beer in one hand, leaning up against the doorframe of said woman's house. "Swan and I are friends; nothing more."_

_"Whatever you need to help yourself sleep at night, Jones," Mary Margaret answered, patting him demeaningly on his arm before she found herself suddenly attached to someone else. David Nolan's arm snuck around her waist as he kissed her lightly on top of her head. _

_"Eww, Dave," Killian blanched, "Do you really have to do that in front of me?"_

_"Get a girlfriend," David suggested._

_"Maggie, help me out here," Killian pleaded. The petite young woman merely raised a dark eyebrow at him._

_"Simply for the fact that you just called me 'Maggie'," Mary Margaret answered shortly, "No."_

_"Let's dance?" David suggested, knowing his girlfriend got awfully touchy when people called her that. _

_"Good idea," Killian hissed as his mate slipped past him with his girlfriend in tow. Glancing towards the dancefloor, Killian caught sight of Emma dancing with her boyfriend and his playful mood suddenly went out the window. _

_Removing himself from the situation, he found himself alone in the kitchen, mulling over why Mary Margaret had chosen tonight of all nights to ask whether he and Emma were more._

_Of course they were. Or at least, in his mind they were. Which was why, when ten minutes later and Emma Swan appeared in the kitchen for a glass of water, he was already on his third drink for that hour, trying to erase the sight of her and Neal practically having sex on the dance floor._

_"Hey Swan," Killian greeted a forced smile on his face. Emma eyed him curiously as she grabbed a glass, her eyes appraising his state with a quick once over. He didn't want to chance the fact that if he moved away from the bench he'd give away exactly how much her being with Neal was affecting him._

_"Jones," she answered with a raised brow. "Why are you in here? Alone?"_

_"Ah, but I'm not, dear Swan." Not now that you're here._

_"Shouldn't you have some blonde haired slut all over you by now?" _

_Well that had a little more venom than usual._

_"Are you offering?"_

_She would take it jokingly. She always did._

_Rolling her eyes, she downed her water and exited the room with a swift warning, "Don't get too drunk."_

_He gave her a small salute before keeping his eyes firmly upon her backside as she left the room. A few moments later there was the distinct sound of yelling and he thought he heard a resounding slap above the music, but couldn't be bothered removing himself from where he was quite happily settled._

_That was, until a raging Swan came marching into the kitchen and grabbed him by the wrist, practically dragging him out of the room and to the front door, not giving a flying fuck about who saw them or who she had to push out of the way to get out of the front door._

_"What the hell is wrong with you?" Killian finally managed when they were in the hallway outside Mary Margaret's apartment door. He wrenched his hand out of her grasp and finally stared her straight in the eyes._

_There were tears there._

_"Oh God, Emma," Killian took a step forward, her tears sobering him up. He pulled her into his arms without thought even as she brought her arms up to her chest as if to protect herself. "What happened?"_

_"He was with her," Emma hiccupped, "That stupid bitch he told me he broke up with ages ago. Turns out they weren't as broken up I thought. I should've fucking realized." She beat down upon Killian's chest in frustration as though it was a table. A second later though, her fingers were sliding around the collar of his dark blue shirt and gripping it surprisingly firmly._

_Looking down and back up at her he realized she was suddenly a lot closer to his face than he remembered. He could feel her warm breath on his face and his own hitched when he realized how tightly her body was pressed to him. He could hide the effect that she had with him in that position._

_"You're drunk, Emma," Killian breathed, as her eyes remained fixated on his lips. He was actually shaking as energy raced through him. _

_"So are you," she pointed out, her fingers suddenly tracing the stupid amount of chest he had showing through his unbuttoned shirt._

_"Remember our rule. Friends don't fuck."_

_"Fuck the rule," Emma whispered, her lips on his jaw now. "I want you."_

_"No you don't," Killian groaned as she began to nibble on his earlobe. If she didn't stop… "You just want to get back at Neal."_

_"So what if I do?" Emma answered, pulling back and smirking as she pushed her hips into his, feeling his very prominently straining erection pressing against her. "Just admit that you want me and take me home, Jones."_

_"I…fuck," he whispered as Emma's hand began to palm his through his jeans. "We can't do this here," Killian finally managed, practically hauling her down the hallway, the stairs and then into his car where they were both equally buzzed. Emma's hand kept trying to sneak between his legs, but Killian was trying extremely hard to concentrate on not crashing, that by the time they arrived back at their apartment block, he was hard as a rock and trying so very hard to not look at the desperate lust in Emma's eyes._

_The elevator up to their floor was hell. And when they finally stepped out, Killian practically ran to his door and threw his key in the lock. The minute it was open, Emma was inside, and the minute it was closed, her back was thrown against it._

_And Killian Jones and Emma Swan kissed for the first time._

_It wasn't soft, or magical. It was raw, drunk, and very, very heated._

_Killian's lips were everywhere, on her neck, her collarbone, her lips, the tops of her breasts…_

_Emma's hands were working at undoing Killian's buttons and pushing his shirt onto the floor. Neither of them could have been as drunk as they thought since they both apparently still had full coordination._

_Killian began to grind against her, his hands settling on her ass and pulling her up to where he needed her. Emma wrapped her legs around his waist, her dress riding up to her hips as she pushed him backwards to his bedroom. He stumbled over some shoes he'd left out, but eventually managed to make the way to his bed and drop her, not particularly gently, on top of his sheets._

_And then he stopped. _

_With a sigh, he took a step back and watched as her eyes widened in shock. Was he…was he rejecting her? _

_"Jones?" her voice came out of the darkness, following his footsteps as he rounded the bed towards the lamp on the bedside table. Turning it on, a warm glow was cast around the room._

_"I want you to want me," he whispered finally, at the risk of sounding like some lovesick teenager. Her hand curved over his bare shoulder, cooling slightly, despite the frantic motions they'd been making moments ago._

_"I do, Killian," Emma whispered, and it was the use of his name that caught his attention. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard her use it; if ever. "Maybe right now I just want to forget him. But I do." Her lips found his in a gentle coaxing kiss. "I swear I do."_

_It seemed to be all that he needed to turn around and reattach himself to Emma with renewed vigour. He reached around to the back of her dress, finding the zip and pulling it down, along with the material until it was just her in her bra and panties, lying against his pillows. _

_He kissed every inch of skin he could see, his hands encompassing her entire body until she was a writhing mess, arching her covered breasts towards him. Killian chuckled into the skin of her neck where he was sucking a mark. Reaching around, he undid her bra, sliding it off her towards the floor. Her hands were already unzipping his jeans and trying to push them off his hips._

_The heat that flooded his vision when he pulled back to take her in was mirrored in her own eyes. Her hands were tracing up and down his chest, over the patterns of light muscles and through his hair as he leant back down to fuse his lips to hers. His hands ran over her hardened nipples, tugging them as he kneaded the round flesh._

_But Emma was tired of his slow movements and kept forcing his pants down, along with his boxers, grasping his hard length in her hand and hearing him groan into her mouth._

_She pumped her hand up and down a few times, feeling him shudder above her, a satisfied smirk gracing her face until his fingers swept through her folds and he groaned, "You're so wet, Swan."_

_"Emma," she breathed in correction as she undulated against his hand, rubbing circles over her entrance and around her clit._

_"Emma," he acquiesced, kissing her as he continued to slowly torture her._

_"Please, Killian," she whispered, her green eyes shining as she gazed up at him. "I want you."_

_Her hand that gripped him was already guiding him to her entrance and it only took a few seconds before she felt him pushing into her slowly. Emma's breath caught as he stretched her, but when he was fully seated within her, she let out a breath of relief. _

_Killian was simply watching her as he began to move. Every thrust he made into Emma's warmth, she met, keeping up a strong rhythm even as he laved his tongue over her breasts and she ran her hands over his back, digging in her nails as the pleasure of Killian being inside her overcame her. _

_She whispered his name pleadingly as she felt her climax approaching. The simple wanton moans of her had him on the edge, and he reached down to where they were joined, touching her gently as she came apart beneath him. A few more thrusts and he followed to the sight of her face, lost in the haze of pleasure._

_He collapsed atop her, and her arms reached around him. Holding him there with his face burrowed in the crook of her neck, lips tracing over her skin as their bodies slowly cooled._

_"Thank you," Emma whispered as Killian finally pulled himself from her, climbing off the bed to find himself some pants. Emma didn't move, and he didn't need to ask if she was staying, simply throwing her his jumper and watching her curl up with it surrounding her._

_This was familiar._

_They'd shared a bed with such innocence many times before. And as she curled up into his chest, Killian couldn't help but wonder whether this would be the be all and end all of their friendship._

_He fell asleep to the sound of her constant breathing._

_But when he woke up, Emma was nowhere to be found. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his brow furrowed. But he quickly stood up and headed for his front door. Unaware of where he was heading, he knocked headlong into someone just as he was about to reach Emma's door._

_Their bag flew open, books and accessories flying across the floor._

_"Shit! I'm so sorry!" Killian apologized as he reached down to help her pick everything up. When he finally looked at the woman before him, he noticed how stunningly beautiful she was with her long brown hair and grey-green eyes. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before the woman chuckled._

_"Milah," the lady smiled. "My name's Milah."_

_Emma, who had just returned to her room to charge her phone, shut her door softly and leant back against it. Letting out a deep sigh, she headed off to her bathroom for a shower, emptiness filling her as she realized that Killian never came knocking that day._

_But his jumper never did make its way back to him._

* * *

**Present Day**

Emma was cleaning up her apartment when she heard the knock at her door the day after Killian had come home and collapsed upon his bed. Expecting a delivery of pizza for dinner, she'd been instead met with a sheepish and clearly sober Killian Jones holding a small bouquet of buttercups.

"Hello?" Emma asked in a clearly unfriendly manner.

"Hey, Swan."

"What's with the weeds?"

"Your favourite," Killian answered, a grin playing at his lips, seemingly satisfied with the fact that he'd got something right.

"What for?" Emma asked warily as she plucked them from his hands, still not letting him over the threshold.

"I may have seen a conversation on David's phone…"

Emma sighed and walked away, accidentally leaving the door open, which Killian promptly took as an invitation into her apartment. He looked around curiously. Nothing much had changed since last year when he'd spent that night on her couch. And nothing much had changed since before that either.

"Where did I put you…" Emma muttered to herself, as she searched her lower cupboards for a vase. Killian hesitated, biting down on his lip before saying, "There's one in the cupboard on top of the fridge."

Emma shot him a death glare before realizing that he was, in fact, right.

_Shows how many flowers she'd received in the last two years._

Heading over, she pulled it down from the cupboard, filling it with water and setting the buttercups in the vase. Placing the glass on the bench, she returned to looking back at Killian, leaning against her couch awkwardly.

"I didn't think you would have kept it," he said suddenly, glancing towards the vase.

"It was your grandmother's," she answered, brushing him off. "I wasn't exactly about to throw it away."

A pang of regret shot through him. When did Emma become this? Deflecting…

He couldn't remember seeing her smile in years.

"Thanks," he said finally, looking into her green eyes and instantly regretting it. Seeing the way they widened in surprise simply made him loathe the fact that he'd turned into a complete bastard. "For checking on me last night."

"It was no problem."

There was a moment's silence between them before Killian ventured, "How did you get into my apartment?"

Emma's eyes instinctively darted to the key rack beside her door where Killian easily spotted his spare keys he'd given her three years ago. The small Mickey Mouse keychain gave them away.

"Oh."

A knock came at the door and they both jumped despite the perfect normality of the situation. Killian walked across the room, being closest, and swung open the door.

"Hey Jones, wow, haven't seen you in ages, how's it going mate!"

"Great," Killian answered, taking the pizza off the kid's hands. "How much do I owe you?"

"$20," the teenager answered as Killian dug around in his pocket for his wallet. The pizza delivery guy peeked over Killian's shoulder to wave at Emma and she couldn't help but smile back.

"You two made up?" the pizza guy said with a grin, to Killian. "That's fantastic, I was wondering how long it would take."

And even though both Emma and Killian heard the comment, they chose to ignore it. This kid, Jerry they think his name was, had been their delivery guy since they moved in. He'd been holding out hope for two years.

He was dedicated.

"See ya, mate," Killian commented as he handed over the cash.

"Have fun," he grinned, walking away as Killian shut the door.

"You didn't have to pay," Emma frowned, coming over to take the food from his hand. "Don't think that you're getting any."

Jones went to make a comment in retaliation until they both realized the ways in which Emma's words could be taken and he took a step back apologetically.

"Maybe I should go," Killian began, his eyes giving no clue as to how he was feeling.

"Maybe," Emma answered, non-committedly as she pulled a couple of plates out from the cupboard. Two. That was a good sign.

He stayed.

The pizza was chicken and cheese with barbeque sauce.

His favourite.

Emma let him sit at the table with him, eating in almost silence. He asked her how her job was going in bail-bonds, she asked him how his was going as artistic director for a small theatre company.

He'd been fired a few weeks after Milah's death. He was working with David sometimes. Sometimes taking his guitar along and putting out some songs but that was it.

He was floundering.

Emma backed her chair out from the table with a loud scrape, jolting upwards and over to the kitchen with her plate in tow. Killian's brow furrowed. "Emma?"

The plate she was holding fell into the sink loudly.

"Don't call me that," she whispered in a tone that offered no compromise.

"Can't we just talk about this…"

"Talk?" she asked incredulously, her green eyes blazing with anger. "Like we should have talked two years ago?"

And there it was. Acknowledgment of their estrangement. The reason why this meeting was so awkward. The reason why the two best friends could barely talk to each other.

"You left me that morning," he started.

"To charge my fucking phone!" Emma exclaimed back, across the counter. "Then I go to find you and you were with _her._"

"Like that's what's stopping us _now_?" Killian answered heatedly. "She's _dead_."

The moment was frozen for a split second as Killian finally realized that it was the first time he'd ever said it aloud.

And it didn't actually hurt as much as he'd thought it would.

"And I'm sorry for that, Jones," Emma murmured, defeated, "But it doesn't change anything."

"Bloody hell, Swan, it does!" Killian ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Couldn't she see that he was trying? "Can't we try and figure this out like we used to?"

"Because all of a sudden you feel like you need me?" Emma asked sarcastically as she piled the dishes in the dishwasher, coming up once more to lean on the counter. "Sorry, this counsellor's retired."

"Fuck, Swan," Killian groaned, leaning on the counter and staring at her directly. "Can't you just look at me and see who I was?!"

And then Emma exploded.

"I needed you, Killian!" Emma answered, rounding the counter. "And fuck, you weren't there. You were too busy with your great love that you forgot that I loved you too! And when I needed you, you weren't there. That's the person that you were."

"Emma…"

"No!" she yelled, pushing him back. "You don't get to just 'Emma' me and suddenly undo two years of shit. Do you have any idea what I went through after that night? Suddenly I was alone. Just me dealing with a ba-" Emma cut off abruptly, hoping that Killian hadn't caught it.

"What did you just say?"

He was looking at her in complete and utter shock. No. She couldn't possibly…but they hadn't used…

"I miscarried," she whispered finally, unable to meet his eyes. "I lost him at 16 weeks."

"You were…" Killian could barely comprehend it. She'd been pregnant. With his child. And he hadn't even bothered enough to ask. When he'd seen her pull away, he'd thought it had been school work…jealousy, maybe.

But she'd lost his child.

"It was mine?" Killian croaked.

"I never had sex with Neal," Emma answered blatantly, trying and failing to put her walls back up. "Probably why he had his other girl on the side, eh?"

She turned away from Killian but he didn't let her go, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to face him

"Is that why you had all those guys? You were grieving?"

_But it seemed strange_, he thought to himself_._ He couldn't recall her actually bringing anyone home since before she'd bailed him out. That was over a year ago.

"Why did you have all those girls, Killian?" Emma replied, "_You_ were grieving."

"I didn't mean to hurt you –"

"Like that makes it any better!" Emma sighed, resignedly. "You never came in and asked me how I was, whether I was doing okay, or..." She trailed off. "Our friendship ended that day because of a stupid drunk mistake."

Killian's mouth went dry.

"That's all it was to you."

"What more could it be?" Emma answered blankly, looking anywhere but at him as she wriggled out of his grasp.

And Killian merely looked away painfully as he walked to the door and closed it behind him.

_What more, indeed._

* * *

** Review? Cookies to you all if you do! **

**TBC...**


	3. Part Three

A/N: Howdy guys! Final part! Here there be emotional sex and promises for ze future...

What about that episode, eh? Tears. Falling. From. My. Eyes. That hug? The Outlaw Queen? Just. Too Much. This is too much for me.

So, without further ado, here is the final part of this ficlet! Thank you so much! The response to this has been insane - better than anything I've ever written before.

Anyway, enjoy! xx

* * *

**How Long Have I Been in this Storm?**

_**Part III**_

_If I could just see you then everything would be alright._

* * *

Emma was sitting at the bar, absentmindedly swirling her rum and coke. Go figure, the latest guy, once again, hadn't showed.

It had been a month since Killian had showed up in her apartment, and since then, she hadn't glimpsed him. For a while she was worried, but she could still hear him moving around on the other side of the wall, so she knew he was alive. And she kept getting messaged; surprisingly, that was a comfort.

"No show, Emma?" David came over, leaning against the counter like he was waiting for Emma to confess her life's story.

"Yet again," she sighed, raising her glass to her friend before downing the rest of the her drink and moving to stand up, the room spinning slightly as she did. Frowning, she checked her watch. Shit, had it really been two hours?

"No offence, Emma," David said, "But you aren't looking great."

"None taken," Emma answered, trying to refocus her eyes, she frowned at David. "Why didn't you cut me off?"

"You were miserable, " David shrugged. "Lord knows why. Although, strangely enough, I haven't seen Killian around here lately…"

Goddammit. The bartender knew everything.

"See you tomorrow, then," Emma answered with a resigned sigh as she headed out the door.

"What's tomorrow?"

"Band night," Emma reminded him. "You know, when you bring in heaps of local bands…you forgot to organize it didn't you."

David's sheepish look gave her all she needed to know.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"Never mind," Emma answered with a sigh. "I'm going home."

"Sleep well!" David said as she walked down the road to where her apartment building stood. She made her way cautiously up to the elevator, trying not to trip on anything around her.

When she arrived on her floor, she opened her door silently, creeping into her room as though she were a thief. Her brow furrowed as she questioned why she would be doing such a thing.

Killian was probably asleep next door. But the walls weren't _that_ thin that he'd hear her coming inside, were they?

Her phone beeping said otherwise.

**_KJ: _**_You home, Swan?_

Her brow furrowed.

**_Emma: _**_Yes._

She put her phone on the countertop, not expecting another answer. For the past month, he'd been doing that, sending her messages when he heard her getting home. Just checking that she was okay.

At least he'd gained something from their meeting.

**_KJ: _**_Are you going to sleep?_

Emma pondered, it was early, and despite her miserable state, she didn't want to curl up and sleep for days. Curl up maybe. Watch a movie maybe. Ice-cream…Ice cream sounded good.

**_KJ: _**_I have cookies and cream and Pirates of the Caribbean._

And that was just too good to pass up in her somewhat clouded mind.

"Be five minutes," Emma said loudly, standing next to the wall, staring at the whiteness of it in shock. What had she just agreed to?!

And more importantly, why?

With a pair of loose sweats and a t-shirt on, she found herself out the front of Killian's door, biting down on her lip anxiously as she prepared to knock. It was like she was preparing for her first date and for some reason, she felt terrified.

But before she could back out, Killian was opening the door, his face as worried as she felt. It broke into a small, relieved smile when he saw her, "Swan."

"Where's my Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom?" she demanded, squeezing past him into the apartment.

He'd cleaned it up.

Last time, she'd been dodging shoes and clothes and belongings, strewn across the floor. Now, she was in a well-lit room that was almost spotless.

"Someone's renovated in the past month," she joked but Killian walked past her to the couch, answering without looking at her, "I had to do something."

Emma felt a smile tugging at her lips, coming up behind him, she placed a hand on his firm shoulder and muttered, "Good."

"I got a job too," he answered as Emma headed into the kitchen, reaching for some bowls beneath his bench and finding some spoons in the drawer above it. Grabbing the ice-cream, she headed back over to him and plonked down on the squishy couch next to him.

"Doing what?" Emma asked in genuine curiosity.

"It's not much," he admitted, shyly, "But a small publishing company agreed to let me work as an Assistant Editor."

"Killian, that's fantastic!" Emma grinned, excited for him, the memory of when he'd first told her of his writing ambitions coming to the forefront of her mind. "You might be able to get something published now."

"I know," he grinned in response, reaching for the remote and flicking the television on. As he scrolled through the menu, Emma dolled out generous servings of ice-cream, pulling hers into her lap and sinking backwards as the opening scene began.

They were both silent for a little while, enjoying the deliciousness of their treat without words getting in the way. But when Emma was finished, and placed her bowl on the table beside Killian's, she relaxed backwards – partially into the lounge and partially into him – as a force of habit.

But she didn't want to move.

A) It would be awkward.

B) It felt too good.

The movie continued its run, Emma burrowing closer into Killian as the night grew colder. It was nearing midnight when she realized he was stroking her hair delicately, rubbing nonsensical patterns into her back.

"I've missed this," Emma murmured with a content smile, her eyes closing. Killian didn't answer for a while, and when he did, Emma barely heard him.

"I've missed you," he replied.

And Emma promptly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

She was awoken by a vice grip upon her arms about four hours later. The TV had faded to black and the lamp across the room was the only light, casting eerie shadows. A quick glance to the clock on the wall showed that it was almost four in the morning. She must have fallen asleep.

Apparently Killian had too.

He was murmuring incoherently in his sleep, his hand tightening on her arm almost painfully. Emma tried to swivel around, reaching up to touch his shoulder and try to wake him.

"Jones," she hissed, pushing against him. "Jones wake up!"

He groaned, but didn't open his eyes, pulling Emma in tighter to him instinctively. She huffed and tried to move again and face him, reluctantly agreeing that the only way she was going to manage that would be to sit directly in his lap.

"Killian," she said a little louder, her fingers digging in to his taut muscles. "Wake up. It's just a nightmare, Killian."

She began to drag her hands down his shirt to push him away, but his hand suddenly caught hers directly over his heart.

"Emma?" he asked sleepily, his voice slow and his eyes bleary. "Please let me wake up."

"You are awake," she whispered, his own confusion seeming off putting to her.

"No, I'm not," he answered simply, "You wouldn't be here if I was."

He thought he was dreaming, Emma realized. Well of course, this was the first time they'd done anything like…this…in two years.

"You wouldn't forgive me," Killian breathed, his hands moving to around her waist. It was then that Emma realized what a precarious position she'd put herself in by straddling him.

"Emma, love," he whispered desperately, "God, I want you. I want you to yell at me, tear me apart with your words. Please. I deserve it."

"Jones, take your hands off me or I'll –"

"No," he pleaded, his blue eyes open and searching, pleading with her as he pulled her tighter to him, their noses almost touching. "You'll go away again. You can't, I won't let you."

He raised his lips to hers with a promise, "I won't let you go."

And then he was kissing her, slowly and desperately, memorizing the contours of her lips and the movements of her tongue.

God help her, she was kissing him back.

He was warm and delicate, holding her as if she were the most precious thing he knew, teasing her mouth like she was someone new and foreign to him as he ran his hands through her hair.

"Jones," Emma groaned into his mouth, some sense of reality seeping back into her. "Jones, no."

But his hands kept pushing at the folds of her shirt, running over the bare skin of her hip. This was worse than last time. Much worse. She wanted him. She shouldn't want him. Not after everything…

"Killian! You're not fucking asleep!" She pulled herself from his grasp and jumped up and away from him, the taste of his lips seared upon hers.

He blinked a few times, his face falling as he took in her disheveled and flushed state.

"Swan?"

"Yes," Emma answered angrily. "I'm going home."

"No," Killian replied quickly, grasping her wrist. Her eyes met his furiously, but he didn't back down. "Please."

He was fully awake now. He rose to his feet.

"Emma," he whispered, saying her name like it was so precious. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

He was coming closer, and she wasn't moving. Why wasn't she moving?

"It can't change anything, Killian," Emma answered, looking down at the ground as she noticed the hand around her wrist, slipping down into hers, their finger entwining effortlessly.

"I know," Killian answered, a pained element to his voice. "But I'm sorry. And I understand that you'll go back to your room and pretend like this didn't happen, but even if you do, and we never talk again, I want you to know that I am truly – deeply – sorry."

"Okay," Emma whispered, practically running towards the door. But she didn't get to open it before Killian's hand was on the wood, his body closing in behind her. Softly shaking, she felt his hand settle on her waist, tugging her around to face him. She stared directly ahead, at his worn grey t-shirt even as he began to speak.

"But I am not letting you go, again," Killian finished confidently, before pressing his lips to hers in a kiss so filled with longing, that Emma couldn't help but press herself back against him, leaning into his kiss as though she needed it more than anything in the world.

"Emma," he whispered with every breath he took. "Emma, I'm sorry."

"Shut up, Killian," Emma finally managed, before her eyes refocused on his lips and she dove back in, pushing him backwards towards his bedroom. Fine. He wanted her? He could have her. As long as she was having him.

On her terms.

She pushed him down on his bed, pulling her t-shirt over her head in one swift motion before throwing it to the side. Killian was propped up on his elbows, looking up at her in awe, but she wasn't having any of that.

Leaning down, she pulled at his buttons fervently, until his chest was exposed to her. Placing hot open mouthed kisses down the exposed skin, she felt him groaning and pushing his hands through her hair, trying to guide her up to kiss him, but Emma was beyond that.

She was frustrated, and for some stupid reason, her body had betrayed her mind and had decided that she wanted him.

Flicking down the zip on his jeans, she pushed them down eagerly until she could see the tented bulge in his boxers.

She pulled off her pants and underwear in one swift movement before leaning over Killian and placing a single deep kiss on his lips. Her hand reached down between them, into his boxers to grip him hard. He bucked into her hand with a groan, "Emma."

That seemed to be the final straw.

"Where is it?" she asked him quickly.

"What?"

"The fucking condom," Emma asked desperately before Killian's eyes widened. He hadn't slept with anyone in a while, nor had he bothered replenishing…

"Swan, I…"

She gave a loud groan and rolled over onto her side, trying to calm down the raging heat in her nether regions. But Killian wasn't satisfied with her just giving up. Rolling on top of her, he took her lips once again. Then her jaw. Then he reached around to unclasp her bra, fully aware of the fact that she had just tried to get this over and done with quickly considering neither of them were properly undressed.

His lips found her nipples, swirling his tongue around each one and sucking until Emma was whimpering and bending into him. His hands traced over her soft stomach before finally pressing his fingers through her folds. She groaned as he slid one, and then two fingers into her before Killian's head looked up at her with a smirk, and he slid down her body to the edge of the bed where he knelt, eye level with his fingers.

"What are you…oh!" She gasped as his tongue graced her fold and lapped at her fluids. Her hand threaded though his hair, the other gripping onto his sheets as he drove her wild with his tongue. Continuing to plunge his fingers into her, Killian realized that she was holding out, trying to stave off her orgasm for as long as possible.

"Let go, love," he whispered, coming up for air. And when Emma saw his face, covered in her essence, she couldn't hold it in anymore, coming apart just as he returned his tongue to her clit and drank her in.

When the tremors subsided, Killian climbed up onto the bed beside her, staring at the same ceiling she was.

"I've never done that before," he said, musing to himself.

"It was er," Emma breathed, still a little airy, "Good."

"Just _good_?" Killian tilted his head to her, quirking an eyebrow.

"I could probably do better," she shrugged, a smirk playing at her lips as she looked down, eyeing the impressive bulge sticking out from his pants. Rolling over she whispered, "Probably should get you out of these, Jones."

"At the risk of sounding too eager," he answered with a grin, "Yes please."

Emma laughed at his response and Killian couldn't help but feel glad that the musical sound had come from her mouth. Laughing. She was laughing.

Pulling his pants and boxers down, she grasped him firmly in her hand and eyed him with a smirk as she opened her mouth leaning forward to lick him from base to tip. He wanted to watch her, but when she took him into her mouth and began to suck, his head rolled back in pleasure. She was too good to be true.

"You're amazing, Emma," he breathed as she took more of him in, his hands leaning over to thread through her hair guiding her movements.

When her tongue swiped across his tip, he felt tension building, murmuring, "Emma, stop I'm going to…"

She took him in deeper in response and he felt the back of her throat just as he bucked into her and came in her mouth. He watched as she swallowed, and climbed back up his body to hover over him.

"See," she whispered with a grin. "I did do better."

"Emma," he whispered her name like a prayer as he brought her face down to kiss her. His lips moved against hers with a practiced ease before they both climbed up the bed. They didn't bother about clothes, simply sliding beneath the covers and curling into each other. Killian wrapped his arms around Emma tightly as they drifted off into sleep. Feeling; for the first time.

At peace.

* * *

It was five hours later, at 10 on a Saturday morning, that Killian woke up from his sleep.

Alone.

He let that sink in for a moment, before feeling as though he wanted to throw something at the wall. Except then he heard it. Someone moving around his kitchen.

Throwing his flannel pants that he usually slept in – but hadn't last night – on, he headed out to find his Swan wearing the jumper he thought he'd lost years ago.

_So that was where it went._

"You left," his face was blank. "Was it your phone?"

"No, actually," Emma grinned before showing him the box of protection she'd taken from her bedside table. "Just thought these might be a bit useful later."

"You want to do it again?" Killian's eyes widened. She wasn't running. She was still here.

"Yes, and we are using these," Emma answered pointedly, trying not to think too much about what it meant for her to be back.

"Until we're ready," Killian whispered with a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"You really intend to stick around that long?" Emma enquired as he wrapped his arms around her tightly thinking of what it could be like. Her and him and a family.

"I thought I made that clear last night, Emma," he grinned as she pressed tightly against him, feeling a sense of peace edging at the corners of her mind. "I'm never letting you go."

"I love you." The words surprised both Killian and Emma. Sure, they'd both felt it before, and said it before, but never so direct, never in…well…_this_ way.

Killian kissed her forehead, joy flooding his being, "I love you too, Swan."

He would never let her go.

She never wanted him to, even if it took her a considerably long time to admit it to herself.

And so, he never did.

* * *

_fin._

* * *

_I did write one other CaptainSwan fic, it's called Set Alight - it's not great on the plot, but it's heavy on the romance. But thank you for reading! This has been great to write! Hope to see you on some more short fics soon. :)_

_Hugs and butterfly kisses,_

_YouSaid_


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